


Blueberry

by nightmmares



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pastries, Romance, blueberry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20146654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmmares/pseuds/nightmmares
Summary: “Maybe you’ll find your favorite flavor here."“Perhaps,” he grins, a lopsided little thing, and their hands brush as he reaches out to take a slice of lemon blueberry bread.Jester tries to ignore the way her breath catches. Instead, she vows to find Caleb his favorite flavor.





	Blueberry

Jester can see that Caleb enjoys food. He’s not overt about it, and is rarely picky about what they eat, but she has seen how slowly he eats, even when on the go. Each bite is savored, even if she doesn’t think it’s something particularly tasty, and he never declines food from anyone as long as everyone has had enough. It’s not much to go on, but Jester sees it as a way to make Caleb a little happier, so she begins to pursue it.

They are resting at a small tavern, a rest stop for many travelers, including the Mighty Nein. The space doesn’t have much to offer besides a warm place to stay and ale, but they do have special flavors of toast for breakfast. Jester is obviously and immediately interested and gets enough for the group to sample. Caleb is the last person she offers the selection to, blinking up at him, “Do you have a favorite flavor?”

“Eh,” Caleb has that look of vague surprise he gets sometimes when people talk to him, and Jester thinks its very cute, “I am not very picky, Jester. What about you, Jester? Do you have a favorite flavor?”

Caleb often reflects questions back like this, and Jester is prepared for it, leaning close and conspiratorially toward him, “Well, there’s just so many to pick from! Sometimes its better to give places favorite flavors. Like Nicodranas, my favorite flavor for there is salted caramel. Mama used to give me these small little candies when I was good. This is the longest I’ve gone without them, but if I had them now I’d think of home no matter where we are.”

Caleb is looking at her in that strange way, like he sees a Jester that is ten times her size. The soft smile twisting his lips makes her feel particularly good. Caleb always treats her seriously, something she appreciates more than she can say. “That is a very interesting way of looking at it,” he leans toward her, equally conspiratorial, “You know, I admire your perspective on things, Jester. It is invaluable.”

She can feel heat bloom in her cheeks and isn’t quite sure what to do with it. No one has ever _admired _anything about her before. It makes her stomach twist in a good way, and it makes her want to show Caleb her perspective on a lot more from now on. Smiling brightly, she offers the tray of sliced toast to him, her tail swishing behind her, “Maybe you’ll find your favorite flavor here." 

“Perhaps,” he grins, a lopsided little thing, and their hands brush as he reaches out to take a slice of lemon blueberry bread.

Jester tries to ignore the way her breath catches. Instead, she vows to find Caleb his favorite flavor.

-

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Beau asks, her voice that strained way it gets when she’s trying to be nice and not blunt.

“I’m _fine_,” Jester insists as she angrily shoves a piece of apple pastry that’s shaped like a rose into her mouth.

“Okay…” Beau nods slowly, her mouth a thin line, “It’s just…that’s, like, your fifth one.” 

She says no more at the look that Jester shoots her. An awkward silence settles over them, before Beau finally offers a stilted goodnight and leaves Jester to herself. They are staying in a small town tonight, and most of them had gone to a local pub to have some fun. The hour is late, and the shuffle of people is beginning to dwindle. Jester sits alone at a table in the corner, pushing her plate of pastries away and pulling out her journal.

Everything she does is a little too hard, a little too loud, but she can’t help it. Her paints sit before her for a moment before she plucks one from the table and begins to paint harsh angry strokes. She focuses on her drawing, the pub around her fading into background.

“What did that poor book do to you?” A voice startles her, but she recognizes it immediately. She looks up at Caleb, trying to force her frown into something more delicate.

“Nothing,” she says, but it comes out a little wrong. She can tell by the way that Caleb inches closer that he’s noticed.

“Everything alright, Blaubeere?” he asks, his voice soft even with the noise of the people still around them.

“What’s that?” She asks, tilting her head.

“Oh, it means, eh, blueberry,” he hesitates, “Is that okay?”

She pretends to think for a moment. She loves nicknames, because to her they indicate familiarity which indicates _friendship. _“It’s alright,” she nods, “but I don’t have anything to call you.”

“I am sure you will think of something,” he purses his lips at her, and she is already starting to feel better. “Now are you going to answer my question?”

Dammit. Jester scowls at him, but she can’t keep it on her face for long. She sighs, “Will you sit with me, Caleb?”

He sits immediately. He doesn’t ask her again, but she knows he is still waiting for an answer. She stares at the table as she mumbles, “Fjord wouldn’t dance with me. Nobody would.”

“Oh,” Caleb says, and she feels inferior in her very core. She is always wondering what it is about her that causes people to dismiss her, if it’s something she can fix. “Well, they must not have been thinking clearly.”

Jester shrugs glumly, sure that he’s just trying to be nice. Trying to change the subject, she nudges the plate toward him, “Would you like to try one?”

He frowns, but accepts the change gracefully, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve had plenty,” she reassures him, pasting a smile on her face.

“You do have good taste,” he says as he reaches for one and she watches closely as he carefully picks off a petal and chews it in his slow way. His smile seems to be genuine. She tries to remind herself to add apple to her Possible Caleb Flavors list. They sit in silence as he eats, until he clears his throat. “I would dance with you, Jester.”

Her head snaps up, and she finds herself searching his eyes, the same color blue as her skin. “Really?” She tries to tamp down the hope in her voice.

“Would it make you happy?” he asks.

She nods vigorously, and Caleb leans forward, his elbows on the table. “I do not see much of a choice, then.”

“Ca-leb!” She squeals, stretching his name out and shooting across the table to grab his hand, “Let’s go!”

He seems a little dazed, staring down at their hands, but lets her head him toward the sound of music.

-

There is a small little café next to an even smaller bookshop, and everyone knows that Caleb is dying to browse. Jester volunteers to accompany Caleb, and everyone splits off to do their own thing for a few hours. Sometimes its nice after all the time they spend together. Jester stops at the café while Caleb continues to the shop. The weather is beginning to cool, so Jester opts to try a heated chocolate beverage and settles herself. 

She is reviewing some old sketches in her journal, reminding herself of their older adventures when she interrupted. Caleb stands before her, a book in one hand and a paper bag in the other. “May I sit?”

“Yes, yes,” Jester smiles, eyeing the package, “What do you have there?”

“I wanted to thank you for accompanying me,” he says, sitting across from her and sliding the bag over the table.

She eagerly reaches in and pulls out two muffins, “Ca-leb!”

He smiles that small little smile at her, and she feels a small flutter in her chest, “They are blueberry. Like you.”

Jester only grins and hands him one. They sit in comfortable silence, eating their muffins. She watches him closely still but mentions nothing. She thinks she knows him very well now. They each return to their books, a companionship they both cherish.

-

“Caleb!” she cries, unable to move as she watches his form crumple around a nasty blast of necrotic magic.

“Hey!” Fjord thunders, distracting the necromancer and ending the man with a desperate whip snap.

Jester thinks of nothing else as she darts to Caleb, skidding to his side on her knees. Her heart is pounding, fear bleeding into the tips of her fingers. Her hands are shaking as she presses her palms onto Caleb’s cheeks and wills the Traveler’s grace into his body. Dark veins recede, leaving his skin smeared with sand and blood.

“Caleb?” she breathes, kneeling over him.

He comes to consciousness slowly, blinking rapidly at her, “Blaubeere…?” 

“I’m here,” she says, her voice soft and relieved, almost close to tears, “I’m here, Caleb." 

His hand rises shakily, patting around until he is covering her hand embracing his face, “…is m’favorite, you know…”

“What?” she can’t help the laugh that bubbles out her, empty as it is.

“Blaubeere…blueberry…that is my favorite,” he sighs, his finger curling tighter around hers. 

Jester can’t stop the smile that stretches across her face, and before she can think, she is leaning in and pressing her lips to his. He’s not super responsive, but it is still sweet.

“Ja,” he sighs as she pulls away, “…definitely the best one.”


End file.
